


Sam: Hot

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, During Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-06
Updated: 2006-11-06
Packaged: 2018-09-03 04:37:53
Rating: Teen & Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8696824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam's thoughts about Dean.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

  
Author's notes: Spoilers/Warnings:Nope  
Disclaimers:Not mine, don't sue.  


* * *

The last time you felt warm was the fight with Dad. Hard, painful words, on both sides. The heat of Dad's anger and hurt burned you, so you fled to Stanford, to cold knowledge and facts. Books and lectures, libraries and all-night study sessions, fueled by Jessica's homemade frappachinos, endearingly chunky with pieces of bananas and strawberries and lumps of ice cream, served with her famous cookies. Jess was your only heat, late at night. Or early in the morning. Or noon. Hey, you're young and horny; gotta work off all that chocolate.

And it's normal. No salt lines, no credit cards, no lies. (No lies?) No fake identities. You're not a cop, priest, doctor, reporter, electrician...you're just Sam Winchester, college man, techno-geek, just another student bowed under a backpack and a full load of classes.

Then Dean came back, and brought heat with him.

He snuck inside in the middle of the night to surprise you, test you, but you passed, pinning him to the floor, even though he was still hard and strong from hunting, his blood scorching you as he grinned up into your face. 

One more hunt, and then Jess burned like Mom, and you were riding with Dean in his beloved black Impala, wrapped in grief and rage and a terrible belief that somehow this was meant to be, that there'll be no escape for you unless you never see your family again. Dean's gaze slices sideways, dark green and tinged with red, like bloodstones, and there is triumph and regret and love in his eyes.

And you know you'll never be cold again.


End file.
